


The End Of Batman

by BatLock



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatLock/pseuds/BatLock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman and a Superman act as a somewhat team to fight against crime. Lex Luthor enlists the helps of the Joker to destroy Batman to leave Superman alone in his fight for justice. Madness ensues.<br/>It's my first fanfiction so I don't really know what I'm doing, apologies. It's co-written with my brother and we'll have illustrations (Drawn by my brother) put up throughout this story.<br/>Oh, the Joker in this story is Jack Napier, just for plot reasons. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Less than a meet-cute

Walking through the bland, white halls of Arkham Asylum, he fixes his silk tie further towards his throat and gulps. Fixing his tie is a nervous habit he's never quite been able to drop. His light steps are the only announcement of his presence in this desolate corridor. The only sound is echo of empty screams and rants of the criminally insane, twisting through the halls directly to his ears as if the very sound was embedded in each cement wall.

  
Regardless of the supposed sense of open space 'created' by the sorrowful white colour scheme, he feels small.. trapped in this subtle enclosure. A transparent signs of desperation and discomfort, usually hidden by a well-placed, condescending smirk, seeps its way through his disguise as he takes a left. His grey suit jacket swishes when his body twists before settling against his similarly expensive, black shirt. He takes a quick breath to compose himself before he looks up. There, he sees him.

  
The plain steel bars make up the front of his cell while the remaining three, small walls mirror the white stone along every hallway making them utterly indistinguishable. A tiny window in the centre of the furthest wall allows a minimalistic amount of light to stretch across the four far right bars. And in the right corner, there he is, sitting on what classes as a bed in this place (a thin mattress resting on a metal rack held to the wall by simple chains), cackling in quite glee. The smell of disinfectant fills the stale air as he stares, words pumping through his mind disturbing, unnerving, fitting. And yet there he sits, unperturbed by the unwavering atmosphere. The plastered on his face only further highlighting his place here.. but he knows better. These rusty bars of thick steel and no different from any other cell, do no justice to the man they hold. Hold? He's not so much held in a place as he's purposefully standing still. And he knows that. They both do. Never staying too long, these are merely visits, a break in his unscheduled pursuit of villainy.  
After he he's judged his surroundings it takes a slow inhale of breath for him to remember his business. Ushering away the attendees he previously bribed as he approaches, he steps close to the 'cage' before him. "Mr Napier, I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."

  
Green eyes meet his through heavily medicated lids as the Joker looks up. The straight jacket he wears is tight against his body, framing his thin figure. The clinical white of the 'attire' emphasizes his brilliant, emerald hair, as disorganised as his unhinged mind. Even without his signature 'make-up' his lips still glow an intense red that forges an unearthly smile across his head. His slim face is: clear, pale and empty, nevertheless it still bares the marks of deranged deceit and unpredictability in his tormented eyes. His long legs which were swinging back and fourth gracefully with a never-ending source of energy now rest still. But with one quick swing his legs carry him off of the rack and efficiently upright. The fine iron chain joining the back of his jacket and the wall above his bed clinks as he spins to face the man before him.

"Lex Luthor. Now you're someone I never expected to see." His psychotic smile twitched, splitting further across his alarmingly thin face. "Slumming it with us here as Arkham." Moving slowly closer to Lex. Despite the clear restraints he wears he can see his every move is unnerving Lex greatly, and this only increases his pleasure at this unexpected visit.

  
Tilting his head slightly to the right, his eyes still fixed on Lex's movements, he continues gliding forward till the chains clink, resisting under the pressure now put upon them. Ignoring the already small gap between them the Joker leans forward with his eyebrow raised in question.  
under the obvious scrutiny, Lex looks away before addressing the Joker once again. "I'm a business man, Mr Napier, and I need your assistance.", a slight distain ever present in his voice but he forces himself to look into the eyes of the madman before him.

  
"Assistance? From little old Joker? How could I assist you with your snappy suits and millions of dollars eh Lexie?" He taunts as he finally backs away, laughing manically as his gaze leaves Lex.

  
Lex steps forward, now almost touching the steel bars, desperate to keep the Joker's attention. "This concerns the Batman." He retorts, trying to hide his eagerness with impassivity. The Joker's head snaps up straight, his eyes now piercing and unyielding. He moves fast towards Lex, stumbling briefly as the chains pull him back towards the wall. Lex's lips twitch upwards as the Joker's ever-present, unsettling smile falters slightly. His eyes narrow and the note of anger in them is obvious and Lex relishes the awareness his words have caused. "I have business with Superman, and Batman is frequently disrupting our one on one time."

  
The Joker brings his previously restrained hands forward to raise his index finger to his chin, posing in a comically pensive manor as he remarks "And, you want me to help you put the big, bad Bat out of action?"

  
"For good." At this the Joker hops backwards, his mind already organising plans, an unhinged look in his eyes. His paces the length of his cell while mumbling incoherently under his breath. The scene is already unsettling, when the Joker stops abruptly and turns to face Lex, his now penetrating stare sends shivers down Lex's spine.  
"When do we start?" The undeniable hint of glee in his growing smile, unmistakable.

  
"As soon as I can get you out of here..." He gestures to the cell the Joker is condemned to. The Joker licks his lips, his smile turning wicked beneath his tongue, tasting the words before they leave his mouth.

  
"Leave that to me." He insists stepping away, spinning around to return to his bed, settling himself on the foam mattress. With his back against the wall he looks absentmindedly towards the window, away from Lex, still beaming.

  
"Goodbye Lexie." he states emotionless, while raising his hand in an attempt at a wave.

  
The Jokers voice pulls Lex from his thoughts and he is no longer able to mull over the decision to bring in the Joker, it is done. The Joker's word repeat in his mind leaving him with nothing but to leave. He turns on his heel and briefly straightens his barely unordered suit. He leaves decisively with Joker in his cell, alone once again.  
Once Lex turns the corner opposite the cell, putting him out of hearing distance, the Joker speaks, barely above a whisper, his words intended for another. "I'm coming for you, Batman." and with that a manic cackle rings through the white-washed building.


	2. Anonymous interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update!  
> This is set a few days after the first chapter. Two friends, an interviewer and an interviewee but neither know who the other is. Enjoy.

"So, Mr Wayne..." he looks up as as he speaks to the man before him, flashing a brief, reassuring smile. Returning to his (already memorised) notebook full of questions, jotted down in his barely readable scrawl, he contemplates the room around him.

His eyes wander around the room and he notes an understanding for why Mr Wayne elects to hold business parties in this house, the tall, stone building is magnificent (as are the surrounding lands) alone. But inside is far more abundantly elegant, with it's vintage, and obviously expensive decor with an unsubtle hint of power eched into every piece of carefully crafted furniture. The same echings clearly reflected in in the manor's master.

But sitting in this unused room, as he sneaks a glance towards the billionaire, he see's something unexpected, hidden behind his relaxed posture and unperturbed face, something darker. Something he's seen in himself. The marks of loss. Deep and often well hidden, but there nonetheless.

A huge, cream archway, ressembling the work of the ancient greeks, makes up the entrance to the large study. The other walls are composed of dark brown shelves piled high with books; significantly older than the manor itself. On the far side of the room sits a almost desolate oak desk, holding only two small, unlit, green lamps. A large leather chair, not ulike the ones they're accommidating, is sitting at the inky brown desk. They sit opposite in the centre of the room just a few feet apart, looking an almost mirror image of each other, ignoring the tumbler of scotch and notepad.

"Please, call me Bruce." he inserts, obvious amusment at the young man's formality rivaling his dissatisfaction at the inevitable monotomy of interviews. "And I should call you..?" raising his eyebrow questioning interest as his deep voice rumbles through the space between them.

"Clark." he states quickly and with no small amount of apathy. _I know that voice._ He lets his gaze wander over the young man. His jet black hair is parted neatly on the left side, highlighting bright blue eyes while strong cheekbones shape his face. He stares now, looking over every individual feature, trying to place him. But instead shakes his head in defeat, returning his attention to the conversation.

Eager to move the conversation along, Clark clears his throat. "Bruce, how does it feel to be voted America's Man of the year?" Mentally cursing the stupidity and predictability of the question. _Now he must think I'm incompetent._

"It's an honor to be voted Man of the Year again.. for the fourth year running." he notes, sarcasm embedded in his words. He brings the tumbler to his lips as he gestures for Clark to continue with a nod and sips the honey coloured liquid.

"Now, You have a great part in fundraisers, and you also give a significant amount to charity. One of the Charities you started is the Wayne Foundation for Ophans. Why do you think it's important to invest in these endevours?" Clark asks, genuinely interested.

"Every child deserves the oppotunity to have a good life. I had a career waiting for me and an abudance of money for security, that's something very few have. It's important for every person, regardless of status to have a good quality of living." Clark's eyebrows rise in unmasked surprised at the honestly humble nature of his answer, causing him to smirk as he takes another sip from the tumbler.

"What motivated you to start the Wayne Foundation?" Noticing Bruce tense he stumbles to undo the questioning as Bruce answers hastily, now lookind at the glass in his hand.

"I went to visit an orphanage in the city, I felt a connection with the children there... Being an orphan myself. And I knew i could help them, so I did." he answers, running his fingers through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. He looks back towards Clark, watching him shuffle under the unwanted attention.

Equally uneasy with the line of questioning and obvious staring, he presses on swiftly. "To Wayne Enterprise's now, how did it feel to relinquish your position in Wayne Enterprise to Mr Lucius Fox?" he asks, watching Bruce visably relax in his seat.

A sudden ringing in his head distracts him from the answer given. shaking his heads to dispell the irritating sound he replies. "Sorry?"

"I said, Mr Fox has a keen interest in business, he understands the mentality needed to keep a company running and I trust him to make necessary decisions. He is an incredibly intelligent man, far better suited to run Wayne Enterprise's than I, so it felt like the best decision for the company." suspicion obvious in his hesitent answer.

"Bruce, the readers of the daily planet would like to get to know the man behind the business suit. What is it a man, such as yourself, does in his rarely spare time?"

All units to Arkham. A prisoner has escaped.

He shakes his head attempting to ignore the sirens now ringing louder in his ears. Though miles away the sound is as clear as Bruce's voice. _I need to leave. now._

Suddenly aware he is not alone he looks up to dispell the suspicion in Bruce's face when he notices Alfred Penneworth standing in the archway at the entrance of the study. The old man stands there with an almost regal posture, his suit without a singular crease, though his unease is clear.

"Well I..." Bruce begins before his sentence is halted by Alfred's voice.

"Sir, Mr Fox is on the line." Alfred states, adding hastily " It's urgent." Giving a pointed look in Bruce's direction before turning gracefully, leaving the two men alone once more.

Clark stands eagerly at Alfred's hast retreat from the room. Bruce looks questioningly in his direction but further questioning is hindered by his need to leave.

Bruce gives an apologetic smile before saying "I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our interview short. Perhaps we can reshedule?"

"Of course, thank you Mr Way.. Bruce." he finishes, lacking all grace and ending with a halfheart smile."

"No problem. Goodbye Clark." he says, standing up and making his way from the room. Just as he reaches the archway he looks over his shoulder to remark "This has been interesting." and with that he takes his leave.

Clark makes his way out of the building, jogging down the path from the house which had certainly provided more insight than the man living inside. He glances back though desperate to arrive as quickly as possible. _There's something about that man._

He reaches his rickety car, a light, matt blue and sporting a vast array of dents, and turns on the engine as he realises the car needs to be hidden. He accelerates down the path awhile, turning into thick trees when they open up. He follows the dirt track for a short while and rushes out of his clothing at an inhuman speed and exits the car flying straight up as, Superman.

\-----------

As Clark makes his from the Manor, Bruce swiftly moves down the hall, turning at the right corners, to where he knows Alfred will be waiting for him. The unused room he enters looks prestine, fitted much like the other. A large desks sits in the middle of the room and three large bookcases fill the far wall. Bruce makes his way briskly around the desk, stopping in front of the middle bookcase.

He pulls the bookcase forward, sliding it in front of the other and steps into the darkness. Making his way down to the the Batcave he follows the tiny lights along the narrow pathway. The path opens up to the vast expanse of the Batcave, stone walls enclose while the waterfall outside hides the entrance from others. Noticing Alfred bent over the monitors against the the closest wall he jogs towards him.

"Alfred, what's happened?" Worry shown in his brow.

"The scanners say there has been a break-out.. from Arkham Asylum. It's the Joker, Sir."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh intensity increases! The next chapter is in the works so hopefully will be updated sooner than this one was and illustrations for the first two chapters will be up too! All grammatical errors in the fic are mine. Comments and Kudos are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> DUN DUN DUN.. What to expect eh? We'll be going back a fourth from the Villains to the Heroes as this story goes on.  
> The next Chapter will hopefully be up soon, bare with me! Sorry it's short I will try to make the chapter longer.  
> I typed this myself so any grammatical errors are my own and comments are very welcome as I really have no idea what I'm doing!


End file.
